


Taking Time

by agni_kai



Category: Girl Genius
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, set in some post-canon future where everything is happy and nothing hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 16:37:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9132496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agni_kai/pseuds/agni_kai
Summary: Agatha isn't entirely sure what the arrangement between the three of them entails, but she's certainly looking forward to finding out. Meanwhile, they might as well just muddle through.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Darlighl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darlighl/gifts).



> For Darlighl/mercurialvoid for the 2016 Yuletide Spark Exchange
> 
> I hope I fulfilled the fluff quota, and Happy Holidays!

Agatha is trying to concentrate on reading, she really is, but she isn't exactly distraction-free right now. Tarvek's weight is heavy against her legs where he's leaning against her shins, and warm, and pleasant in a strange way that she isn't entirely sure what to do with. It isn't often she manages to be this comfortable with someone - Adam and Lilith, of course, and maybe Zeetha, and increasingly Violetta as well - but this is still all so new, so strange, so _confusing_. To have this level of trust with someone, to be this close in a situation not otherwise compromised by the madness place, to be able to share this companionable silence. Too new, honestly. Too strange. It's probably best to ease her brain into it slowly.

She nudges Tarvek in the back of the head with one knee, managing a smile as he tips his head back to look at her. _Don't be too awkward. Don't be too odd._ ‘Are you okay down there? There's room on the sofa if you need it.’

He smiles up at her, and there's a now-familiar churning sensation in the pit of Agatha's stomach. ‘I'm alright. It's relaxing, honestly, compared to sitting at a table.’ He hesitates for a second. ‘You don't have an issue with me sitting here, do you? I can move-’

‘It's _fine_. I don't mind, honestly.’

And there's that smile again. Agatha resists the urge to reach down and run her fingers through the red hair that brushes against her knee - but why resist? She doesn't need to now. That's the arrangement they have, the agreement between all three of them. _Take your time, figure out what you want, keep checking in with the other two._ And this _is_ something she wants, she knows that. Tarvek's hair is soft under her fingertips as she tentatively brushes one hand over it, and he shifts to be able to balance his book and read one-handed, relaxing back against her leg with a contented little noise that makes her curl her fingers into his scalp. His eyes are still studiously on his book but Agatha can clearly see his free hand slide across the floor until it bumps up against her boot, and she tries not to jump as he curls his fingers around her ankle and squeezes slightly. She ruffles his hair in response, stifling a giggle at his huff of fake annoyance, and smooths her hand over the mess she just made as she tries to go back to her book. It _is_ an interesting book, it’s just that, well, right now Tarvek is considerably _more_ interesting.

Especially as his hand has slipped up underneath her trouser leg and his thumb is making tiny circles in the hollow of soft skin just under her ankle bone, and all she wants to do right now is kiss him. His hand stills as the door opens behind them, and she recognises Gil's familiar footsteps even before he says ‘Am I interrupting anything?’.

Tarvek says ‘No’ at the same time as Agatha says ‘It wouldn't matter even if you were’, and Gil laughs as he crosses to the sofa and drapes himself over the back to drop a kiss on the top of Agatha's head.

‘Is there any reason you're sat on the floor?’ he asks, and Tarvek shrugs as he draws a delicate line up the length of her calf.

‘It's comfortable. Besides, Agatha seems to like it.’

‘ _Like_ is the wrong word,’ Agatha protests, but she's smiling as she twists her fingers into the fine hairs at the nape of Tarvek's neck and rests her hand against him and feels his pulse fluttering against her palm.

Gil throws himself over the back of the sofa with abandon to sprawl next to Agatha, and she elbows him in the ribs. ‘No shoes on the furniture.’ He catches hold of her arm before she can move back to her own side of the sofa and tugs her closer, but she pulls back with a laugh. ‘Stop trying to distract me! No shoes, that brocade is older than your family.’ She doesn’t quite move all the way back to her side, though. Gil’s shoulder suddenly looks very welcoming.

Gil rolls his eyes as he toes his boots off and nudges Tarvek in the side with one stockinged foot. ‘Don't _you_ make that face. Your family is younger than the Heterodynes too, you know.’

‘ _Most_ families are younger than the Heterodynes,’ Tarvek points out. ‘Give me one other of the Fifty Families that can trace their line back to the Mongols.’

‘Fair enough.’ Gil pauses for a second with a calculating look, then nudges Tarvek again, on the side of the head this time. ‘Come sit up here.’

‘I'm fine where I am.’ Tarvek turns a page and relaxes back against Agatha again. ‘Besides, there's no room.’

‘There's plenty of room,’ Gil says firmly, and Agatha murmurs something in agreement and shifts away from where she had begun to lean into him. Gil nudges him again, more insistently. ‘Tar _vek_ …’

Tarvek braces himself against Agatha's leg with a put-upon sigh and lets himself be tugged up between them. ‘See,’ he says, a second after he's wedged himself into place. ‘I _told_ you there'd be no room. This is a two-person sofa, and Gil's a person and a half just by himse-’ He breaks off with a muffled squeak as Gil wraps one arm around his waist and pulls him around to one side, and Agatha grabs his legs and pulls them across her lap.

‘There,’ she says brightly. ‘All sorted.’

Tarvek rolls his eyes and lets himself be manhandled into place by Gil, half-draped across both of their knees with his feet on one arm of the sofa and his back against another. ‘This is _ridiculous_ ,’ he says after a couple of seconds, and reaches across to poke Gil in the chest. ‘Hoy. Move.’

Agatha catches hold of his hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles. ‘You’re beginning to sound like a Mechanicsburger. The jägers are a bad influence.’

‘Blame Jorgi,’ Tarvek says absently, and squeezes her hand before extracting it from her grasp to poke Gil again.

‘I heard you the first time,’ Gil tells him, capturing his wrist before he could pull it away. ‘It would be useful if you could tell me what exactly you _want_ from me.’

There’s a smile tugging at the edges of Tarvek’s lips as he says ‘Well, when you put it like _that_ …’, and he doesn’t even try to conceal the movement of his free hand as it travels up the length of Gil’s thigh, up to his hip, pausing just for a second just before it dips down-

‘And you can stop _that_ little distraction,’ Gil says as he catches hold of that hand too, but he smiles and kisses Tarvek’s palm, the inside of his wrist, and Agatha has to stop herself from leaning over and kissing them both silly here and now. ‘If you want me to move, I’ll move.’

‘The issue was, I was reading-’ Tarvek gestures with his chin at the book now abandoned in his lap. ‘-and mostly I just wanted somewhere to actually be able to lean. It’s a little more relaxing than having to keep yourself half-upright indefinitely.’

Agatha prods him in the stomach. ‘It’ll be good for you. Core strength and all that, right? Zeetha’s always going on about it.’

‘My core strength is doing just fine, thank you very much,’ Tarvek says huffily, and Agatha gives up and leans forward across both their bodies and kisses him with her fingers tangled in his hair and Gil’s hand warm and heavy in the small of her back, and it’s wonderful for a minute or so until her leg cramps up and she has to pull away with a squeak. It’s only a few seconds until the spasm subsides, but Tarvek shifts slightly and grimaces. ‘Honestly, being able to lean somewhere would be highly appreciated.’

‘Alright, just hold on-’ Gil pushes him up into a sitting position as Tarvek complains about the jostling, and rearranges himself into the corner of the sofa rather than against the back. ‘There. Sorted.’ He wraps an arm around Tarvek’s shoulders and tugs him back down to sprawl against him. ‘Better?’

‘More comfortable, certainly.’ He tilts his head back and brushes a featherlight kiss against Gil’s jaw and, a little more hesitantly, trails one or two more down the column of his throat. One of his hands is reaching around behind him and pressed against Gil’s chest, fingers just curling around the half-unbuttoned collar of his shirt, the other resting lightly on his thigh. Gil’s arm tightens around him and he nuzzles Tarvek’s neck the best he can at the awkward angle, and Tarvek draws in a sharp breath and presses closer to him.

Agatha’s pretty sure neither of them notice her kicking off her shoes or tucking her feet up under her, but they certainly do notice her wriggling close enough to grab Gil’s arm and drape it around her waist and tuck herself up against him.

Gil turns his attention from a detailed examination of Tarvek’s collarbone to look down at her. ‘What prompted this? I mean, not that I’m complaining, but-’

‘What _prompted_ it was seeing you two having fun without me,’ she tells him, hearing Tarvek stifle a laugh. ‘Besides, you’re the one that started this cuddle pile, and I intend for it to continue.’

Tarvek raises an eyebrow at her from the other side of Gil. ‘I’m not going to get any reading done, am I?’

‘Like you were getting any done earlier.’ Agatha plants a kiss on the tip of his nose and resists the urge to say _boop_. Zeetha’s a terrible influence, really. ‘You can read later.’

‘You say _later_ like you plan on ending this any time soon.’ His fingers are tracing tiny patterns on her thigh where she’s tucked her legs up against Gil, skipping over the buttons and seams of her trousers. ‘Not that I’m saying that _I_ want to end it, of course.’

‘Of course,’ Agatha echoes, and leans forward to kiss him properly again.

When she pulls back she finds Gil already waiting for her, one hand brushing her hair out of her face and the other tightening on her waist, and as she leans up to kiss him Tarvek’s lips brush against her cheek and jawline and pulse point. She cups one hand around the back of his neck and twists the other into the collar of Gil’s shirt, and kisses them both and lets them both kiss her. _Yes_. This is what she wanted.


End file.
